


you're no rock n' roll fun

by rowdyhomo



Series: all the good in me is because of you (it's true) [3]
Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi, Polyamory, day two - embarrassment/angst, honestly i marked it as ship but its pretty background alsdjfkdj, rizumo week 2017, rizumo week 2k17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 06:47:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9708998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowdyhomo/pseuds/rowdyhomo
Summary: izumo doesn't do birthdays. her family disagrees.





	

**Author's Note:**

> honestly hope to explain this with subsequent stories but for now here’s a rough guide.
> 
> Izumo had Aiko when she was 22. Izumo, Rin, and Shiemi are all 37 in this fic. The rest of the children were adopted at various points. Shiemi became a part of the marriage (although not officially recognized) around the time Shiro was adopted.
> 
> Aiko is a carbon copy of her mother Izumo, bc manga genetics, with her father’s build, quarter demon, does not appear to have her father’s flames. Wears her hair ridiculously long. They don’t think she’s ever cut it, not even once. Training to be an exorcist, possibly dragoon.
> 
> Shiro is a brown haired and brown-eyed human. His hair pretty shaggy, he tries to do mohawks and fails spectacularly. Hasn’t decided whether he wants to be a cook or rockstar.
> 
> Sadako is also human. Currently, she has black hair but she eventually starts dying it blonde like her mother Shiemi. Blue eyes. Loves dressing up. Practicing to become a professional kickboxer. 
> 
> Izanagi and Izanami are half demons that can teleport and communicate telepathically with one another. They have small horns hidden by their red hair and red and green eyes (ones red and ones blue, for both of them). They’re about 3 here. Both have an unstoppable sweet tooth and sensitivity to other’s emotions.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale _deeply_ and pray to Inari to give her the strength to not punch her second secretary through the wall. It’d be the start of a bad track record, for one. (Although, to be fair, the first one had been a demon impersonating the exorcist that was her first unknown-to-her-but-then dead secretary.) For two, Emi isn’t truly the source of her vexation. Thus, it would be entirely unfair to break the young girl’s face.

Izumo covers her face with a single hand, the other resting on her hip as she hangs her head. There’s a long moment as she goes through a couple of more cycles of meditative breathing before she drops both hands to her sides. Her head tilts back to stare up at the ceiling in apparent despair.

“How long have they been here?” she asks, tone full of the tiredness of a war general finally settling into the grave of defeat.

Emi winces sympathetically and gives Izumo’s shoulder a squeeze.

“It’s only been two minutes, it can’t be too bad right?” she answers, cheer in the lines of body and the smile on her face. Even her long brown hair seems cheerful in the way it bobs as she nods encouragingly.

Her smile is a lie, however. Izumo knows this down to her very bones. She’s done this too many times to be fooled. Has watched the light drain from her subordinates eyes, bit by painful bit, as she’s sent them again and again on this mission, a fate worse than death.

(”Never be the one to keep Arc Knight Izumo’s family busy while she’s out,” they whisper around the water cooler. Only when the light is brightest for fear of bringing ill luck, otherwise. “You’ll never come out the same.”)

It is that bad, Izumo knows. Her red eyes pierce brown and find nothing–Emi is dead inside already. Which is why she’s meeting Izumo outside her subordinates’ shared office space and not Izumo’s own. Emi’s given up. Set _them_ free. Izumo finds herself imagining the carnage that awaits the two of them beyond the ridiculously tall, ridiculously thick double doors.

Izumo sighs. Then straightens, pulling back her shoulders and tilting her chin up. If she is going to walk into hell then she is going in proud and unbroken.

Decision made, Izumo strides forward. Emi trails behind her superior. Her own back unbowed, as well. Izumo will remember her fondly.

Grasping a handle, Izumo pulls open the wooden door. Internally, she braces for screaming both wild, victorious and low, despairing kinds; for seeing her subordinates, good exorcists the lot of them, spread among their desks, slumping lifelessly like forgotten debris; for the horde held precariously within to come rushing towards her the moment she’s noticed. She does not brace, instead, for silence.

Only just realizing she has closed her eyes, Izumo cautiously cracks a single one open.

“SURPRISE!”

Izumo’s eyes fly wide open, her hand gripping tightly onto the door handle in shock. Her mouth drops open and all she can do is stare.

There’s a different sort of carnage than what she had expected: confetti, burst across the office upon her entrance, a banner strung from the ceiling declaring “Happy Birthday, Kamiki Izumo (Mom)!”, and a ridiculously large cake behind the whole group. There were screams but all of delight and cheer. Not a single one of horror. Before her stands the horde, her little family of gremlins: children, husband, and wife, grinning wildly in alliance with her coworkers, waiting for her reaction.

“Oh,” murmurs Izumo. It’s all she can seem to get out past the sudden lump in her throat.

It’s enough, however. Emi slips out from behind her to join Izumo’s subordinates while the red-haired twins, Izanagi and Izanami, disappear with a soft pop. The rest of her children and her spouses follow after at their own paces. The twins reappear in a clap of displaced air and collide with her legs before wrapping their arms firmly around them. In unison their grinning faces peer up at Izumo with mismatched eyes.

“Are you–”

“–very surprised?”

“We did our bestest–”

“–to keep it secret!”

Heat begins to creep up her neck as Izumo laughs just a bit nervously before encircling the two in a hug as best she can.

“Oh, yes, very surprised,” she replies, watching her words transform their faces from happy to positively gleeful.

Izumo lets them go, though they remain attached, to draw her next two kids–Shiro and Sadako–into an embrace. They’re older than the twins. Twelve and ten and already standing at her shoulder. Sadako presses her face into Izumo’s neck while Shiro leans up to a plant a shameless kiss on her cheek. Izumo ruffles his hair in retaliation, smiling as he squawks.

“ _Mother_ , I worked all day on that!”

“It was a beautiful mohawk,” Izumo allows. Smile turning into a smirk as Shiro protests that he’s ‘not beautiful, oh my god.’  “But, you know the rules, kisses get smushes.”

Shiro pouts, whining, “I’ve never heard of that.”

“Are you sure that’s not a made-up rule, mom?” asks Sadako, in turn.

“Oh, no, it’s definitely a real rule. I was there when she put it into the official lawbook,” assures Aiko as she comes up and manages to encircle her siblings and mother in one huge hug. Only fifteen and she’s already as tall as her father. It brings a spark of prideful envy to Izumo, as her eldest leans in to press their foreheads together. “Happy birthday, Mom.”

Before Izumo can say anything (though she doubts she could’ve, that lump seems to have grown several sizes in just a span of seconds), Izanami yelps excitedly, “She’s very surprised!”

The six of them break into laughs drawing apart just as Rin and Shiemi arrive, bringing up the rear.

“Really? I was worried you would figure it out and be all grumpy about it,” admits Rin, his grin unwavering.

Shiemi slaps him lightly on the arm before stepping forward and grasping Izumo’s hands, “What Rin means to say is that while we know you don’t particularly care to celebrate your birthday…we hope this is okay.”

“A-and! If you don’t like it we don’t have to do this ever again,” assures Rin quickly, looking ready to take cover behind Shiemi.

“We just want to show you how much we appreciate you, is all,” finishes Aiko, giving her mother’s shoulder a soft squeeze. Sadako, Shiro, Izanami and Izanagi all give chorusing agreements.

The seven of them send her such hopeful looks that Izumo almost feels scared to breathe. She does, somehow. Past the tightness and the lump.

“Heh, well,” begins Izumo, licking her lips and swallowing. Her eyes avert to the ground. “What am I supposed to say to that? Especially, with those puppy dog looks that _I’m pretty sure I banned…_ Of, course I like it. Thank you, very, very much for caring so much about me.”

“C’mon, bring it in!” Izumo calls, keeping her head down even as she raises her arms.

“Group hug!” shriek the twins.

Shiro gulps, “Two hugs in one day? Is this the end–ow, Sadako!”

“Get in here already.”

“I’m so glad you liked it! Just wait until you taste the cake, I made your favorite kind.”

“I made sure he didn’t go too overboard on the sweetness factor, too,” Aiko adds, squeezing into the hug from behind. “And Shiemi brewed some mean tea.”

“We did–”

“–the presents!” 

“I’m the one who came up with the plan! Your secretary helped too, I guess.”

At that, Izumo weakly rubs her knuckles into her eldest son’s black hair, forcing out, “I-it was _you_ who conspired to give me a conniption, then, huh?”

Her eyes burn and she can’t seem to draw in enough air. A small tremble runs through the purple-haired woman’s frame and Izumo draws her family in tighter with a shaky inhale. Her family’s voices buzz around her, almost lost in the background drone of her cheerful colleagues.

 _I haven’t been fair to them_ , she thinks, remembering many birthdays passed by with ‘abrupt’ long-term, out of country exorcism missions that she simply ‘couldn’t’ pass up or flat out refusal to participate in anything more extravagant than a nice dinner at home, sans presents. Even now, she can feel the urge to brush them off and flee. The urge to hide away from the day that had only ever served to remind her mother how much she hadn’t wanted Izumo. 

_(I wish I’d never given birth to you!)_

Shame bubbles up inside Izumo. Only to be smothered by the sheer overwhelming amount of love pouring from her family to her. She hugs them tighter still, a sniffle breaking from her.

Shiemi gasps, “Izumo! Are you crying?”

Her family pulls back in concern, Rin spluttering, “N-now, don’t you start! If you start cr…crying then I…I…I will too!”

He really does start blubbering, waterworks, soft sniveling, snot and all, sending the twins off into whimpers. Aiko pats Rin’s back in faint amusement while Sadako worriedly gathers up Izanagi and Izanami to shush them. Beside his two mothers, Shiro stands stiffly. His arms raised in apparent surrender and eyes so wide he looks like he might faint at any second.

“I’m not crying!” protests Izumo in a sharp whisper. She attempts to point an accusatory finger in Rin’s direction. It’s rather difficult, however, when Shiemi holds onto her hands firmly. Supposedly, in attempt to calm her. “I-I’m just real-real- _really_ happy!”

“See? Happy crying, happy crying, no need for you two to go weeping too!” Sadako all but wails in the background.

“I’m g-glad!” sobs out Rin.

Izumo chokes out, “Stop _yelling_!”

It’s too late, however, the damage has been done. The victim of carnage Izumo had been expecting earlier, namely dignity, has come at last. She just never thought it would be hers.

“Stop looking! Get back to work, you heathens!” Izumo shouts at her subordinates. They all stare back at her with an odd mix of well-trained fear and bemused bewilderment in their gaze. If Izumo hadn’t been ready for funeral drums before she certainly is now.

“But we haven’t even had cake yet!” objects Emi from the crowd, looking quite put out.

“She’s right. You haven’t opened presents either. How about we take care of that and then they can go back to work afterwards,” soothes Shiemi, sounding all too reasonable and polite.

Izumo can only stare at her wife with watery eyes, betrayed.

“Oooh, yes, don’t you two want cake? You only get cake if you stop crying, though!”

The tears drain away immediately to be replaced by near battle cries.

“Cake!” shrieks Izanagi.

“I want cake!” demands Izanami.

Grinning the sort of mad grin that possesses those who’ve just scraped by death, Sadako jogs away with the twins in arm, shouting, “Alright! Cake for everyone!”

A cheer goes up from the crowd at third eldest' declaration, followed by ever more raucous orders for only the biggest, most icing-est pieces of cake from the two twins.

Aiko hums. One more pat to her father’s back and she’s striding over to the still frozen Shiro. She hooks an arm about him and starts to drag him away, musing aloud, “I could definitely go for some cake. How about you, Shiro?”

Indescribable mumbles are the only response she receives. 

“Good enough,” declares the eldest Kamiki-Okumura cheerily, steering them towards the front of the growing line. 

Shiemi and Izumo watch them go. Shiemi faintly amused. Izumo falling somewhere to between mortification and glassy eyed acceptance. When they glance back at each other, Shiemi’s smile softens. Gently, she dabs at Izumo’s eyes, drying them.

“Let’s go eat, alright?”

Izumo doesn’t nod, or make a noise of agreement, but she doesn’t resist Shiemi’s tug towards the promising, if diminishing, cake. A sort of smile is even managing to creep onto her face. Sure, she’s certainly going to be a laughing stock around her office for a while but for once she’s pleased and happy on her birthday. With her family no less!  Snide marks around the office aren’t anything a little iron fist ruling can’t fix. If she ever comes off this endorphin high, that is. She might not even care–

“Aaah, I love you guys so much!”

Izumo and Shiemi don’t even get a chance to run before they’re lifted off their feet by one–no longer sobbing but still deliriously overcome with emotion–Rin. 

“I love you too, Rin,” returns Shiemi serenely. A faint blush spreading across her cheeks. Quite oppositely, Izumo writhes, claws, and _howls_ like a trapped, wild animal.

“We love you too, Dad!” chorus all their children at once. More than one voice muffled through cake.

Izumo slumps in Rin’s arms. They’re out to kill her. Honestly, truly. Through _kindness_.

“Shameless! All of you are shameless!”


End file.
